Stories from the ‘Comedy’ Collection

July comes around, it rains fish. Guaranteed. Every year. So you get used to the fish storms in July. Or you’re supposed to… That’s what some people say anyways.

But I honestly don’t know anyone who doesn’t grumble and complain about getting fish in your boots, or smacked in the forehead with a mackerel, or glancing up and getting a trout in the eye. I just pull my hood over my head and stomp home, or to school, or wherever I’m going, since you can’t take the bus during fish season.

The strange case of Bebary Bee began with one of the most mundane and innocuous objects: a spoon. Bebary Bee, like most good geeks, had gone to see the Matrix when it came out in the theaters, and like most very confused geeks, believed it revealed an astounding truth to him about the true reality of the world, which led shortly to his jumping off the roof of his school building and falling four stories to his early and untimely death in the misguided belief that a spoon (and old Uri Geller videos on YouTube) had shown him the truth of reality.

But the case of Bebary Bee didn’t end with his death. It started with it.

This will not be funny. Oh, it’s meant to be, but it won’t be. It will be black and dreadful, full of morose angst and terrible failed attempts at clever wordplay and so forth, like puns that aren’t because I don’t really know how to do puns. Except for here and there. And that’s just blind luck.

It will be absurd, or so I will tell the legions of fans screaming outside my door…the ones in my head, who are keeping me from writing this novel. It’s them or the migraine. You see? Already, it is terrible. It will be a terrible, terrible fifty-thousand words.